Of Snowflakes and Hot Chocolate
by AShatteredFantasy
Summary: 100 different oneshots in the life of Prussia and Canada., for The 100 Theme Challenge. Credit for the image goes to biologyofpencils on Tumblr.
1. Chapter 1

**So ****Prussia and Canada are my OTP. Iv'e read like a billion fics about them, so I decided to write one of my own. Hope you like it ^.^ **

**Listening to: Skyrim OST **

**Word Count: 1,005 **

**Rating: K+**

Canada sat at the edge of the mountain, his long legs swinging over the side. He hugged Kumajiro close to him as he admired the view.

For some reason it hadn't snowed this week as much as it usually did. Now there was only about 6 inches on the mountain, so it made for a pleasant change from the usual two to 4 feet he usually got.

Canada pulled his red hood up and leaned back into the cold earth. Seeing that the clouds looked fuzzy, he realized the low temperature had made his lenses fog up. Setting Kumajiro aside, he quickly grabbed them and wiped them off on the edge of his red hoodie. He perched them back on his nose, and gave a surprised yelp when he saw a certain albino peering over him.

"Chill Birdie! It's just the awesome me!" Prussia announced proudly.

The Canadian looked up, and saw that he had scrambled dangerously close to the edge. He scooted back to his original spot in the snow. He saw the other nation carrying two steaming coffee mugs. "Oh, h-hi Gilbirt. What are y-you doing here?"

Prussia plopped down next to him before replying. "Like, since I'm such an awesome boyfriend, I thought you would be cold or something, so I brought you hot chocolate." He offered him a cup, and Canada took it graciously. The cup warmed his fingers, and it was only now he realized how cold he really was.

Canada was thankful for his boyfriend's actions. He always acted so tough and arrogant towards the other nations, but he had a soft spot for the Canadian. Glancing sideways, he saw Prussia drinking his drink in large mouthfuls. He took a swig out of his own cup, and was delighted to find Gilbirt had added maple flavoring to it.

"You added m-maple flavoring to this?"

"Duh," the other stated "I know it's your favorite thing, like, ever. Besides me, of course. "

"Oh, Thanks." Mathew replied. He loved when he did little things like this. He found it both romantic and heartfelt.

Both nations finished their drinks in comfortable silence, setting their cups to the side when they were done.

A gust of wind blew, cutting sharply through his red sweatshirt. He hugged his knees to his chest and shivered. Prussia glanced over at him, tilting his head to the side.

"What's wrong Birdie?" he asked, scooting over so their shoulders brushed. Canada leaned his head against the albino, and closed his eyes briefly. Prussia leaned over, and planted a light kiss on the top of his head, showing genuine concern.

"N-nothing. Just a l-little cold, I should've worn another jacket."

Gilbirt leaned back and removed his top jacket. He draped it around him, and Canada comfortingly wrapped it around his arms. "Thanks."

"No problem." The other nation replied. Canada placed his head to its previous spot on Prussia's shoulder and sighed happily. Everything had been going right for him latey. Nations were starting to (somewhat) notice him, and America had surprisingly been kind to him. He thought it was because of that British man he always hung around with. (Canada had suspected it was something more than a close friendship, but he never pushed it, wanting to respect his brother's privacy) His relationship with Prussia was going amazing, and they hardly ever fought.

" Hey, Prussia?"

"Mmm. Yea Birdie?" He responded, stroking is fingers absentmindedly through Mathew's hair. He was careful to avoid his curl though, knowing he was sensitive towards it.

" Do you think we'll ever get married?" Canada surprised himself with the question, but decided to go along with it, wondering what Prussia would say.

Prussia seemed taken aback by the question, but he quickly composed himself. " If things keep going the way they are, then yes, I think we will. If I do propose, it'll be totally epic though. Not one of sappy ones where the ring is in the bottle of champagne or anything. Maybe I'll spell out Will you marry me Matthew with fireworks or something. That would be pretty awesome. " The Canadian couldn't help but laugh.

What? Do you not like my totally awesome idea?" Gilbert whined. Canada straightened out as he shook his head, and let the jacket slip down his shoulders. Prussia tackled Canada with mock anger and they both toppled into the show.

When they stopped, Prussia was leaning over on his elbows, and looking down at his boyfriend pinned below him. His glasses had fallen askew on his face, and Prussia quickly pushed them up to their normal position. Canada tried to squirm free, but the other nation had him caught in the snow. He opened his mouth to protest, but he was quickly silenced when he felt Gilbert's lips on top of his own. After a second, he relaxed and deepened the kiss by moving his mouth against the others.

They kissed for several more seconds, until Prussia pulled back, gasping for air. "Sorry," he apologized." You looked too cute." Mathew was still a bit dazed, but he shook his head. "It's o-ok."

Gilbert rose from his spot on top of him and extended his hand to him. "Come on, Birdie. Let's get warmed up." Canada gratefully to his hand, and hauled himself out of the snow. Prussia retrieved his jacket from where it had fallen, and Canada picked up the empty cups.

Prussia pecked him on the lips again as he wrapped his slender arm around him, holding them close. They started off on the long walk back to Canada's cabin, as the sun faded ehind the mountains. Gilbert broke the silence s they were passing btween two enormous pines.

"So, about that wedding proposal…"

**Lsjdfbkjfblrhb This is definitely my favorite Fluff I've written. REVIEW PLEASE!**


	2. Chapter 2 Complicated

**Word Count: 558**

**Listening To: illmerica**

Matthew sat alone at the lunch table, focused solely on his Chemistry homework from the night before. He sat at the end of the far table. The only other people sitting here were a few freshmen at the other end. A voice across from him broke his concentration.

"This seat taken?"

Matthew looked up, surprised that someone had bothered to talk to him, much less ask to sit here. The new kid, Gilbert Beilschmidt, stood in front of him, looking down expectantly. A few seconds passed and he shook his head, pushing is textbooks off to the side.

Gilbert plopped down onto the chair and propped his boots up on the table. Leaning back, he crossed his ankles, the chains clinking together. He took off his jacket, throwing it onto a nearby chair. A black tank top covered his torso, interrupted only by the German cross hanging from his neck.

Seeing him up close, Matthew realized his eyes weren't brown or amber like he originally thought. Instead they were a piercing red color. It made it look as if he was staring through him and not at him.

He looked down, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. The edges had become frayed, but it was still his favorite thing to wear to school.

"What's your name?" Gilbert asked, popping open his soda and taking a swig of it.

"M-Matthew." He stuttered, glancing up.

"Mathew, huh? Well I'm sure you've heard about me already. Awesome new transfer student. Moved from Germany."

"I know. We have History together." Gilbert scratched the back of head, tossing the bottle in an empty trashcan nearby.

"We do?" He asked. Mathew nodded. He wasn't very surprised the other hadn't noticed him. Most people simply ignored him.

"Well I won't really pay attention in that class anyway. It's too boring. Where I come from history is so much better." Gilbert stated.

"Germany?"

Laughing, Gilbert shook his head. He leaned forward, letting his heavy boots fall to the floor. That would be my brother, Ludwig. He's over in Italy for a while." He pointed to himself. "I'm from Prussia."

Matthew tilted his head, confused.

Seeing the look he gave him, Gilbert hastily explained. "My great grandparents were alive when Prussia dissolved."

He opened his mouth to ask when exactly that was, when the bell rang for fifth period. The cafeteria was suddenly filled with people with the next lunch, and Mathew scrambled to get his books together.

Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, he deftly avoided the swarm of teenagers and made his way towards the Chemistry lab. Mathew looked back, only to find that Gilbert was long gone.

He got to his class right before the bell rang. His seat was near the window, and gave him a clear view of the football field and track.

Mathew opened his textbook, ready to turn in the homework from last night. A small slip of paper fell out and onto the floor. He picked it up, not recognizing the handwriting.

He unfolded it all the way to find someone's phone number, and a sentence that looked suspiciously German on the inside.

**AN: Sorry for the short chapter, I was p all night and I apologize that Prussia keeps surprising Canada. I promise it won't happen in the next chapter. **


	3. Chapter 3 Making History

Listening to: Two Steps From Hell- Starfall

Word Count: 1,001

"You're sure you want to go through with this Mattie? We could try to find you a donor maybe or something…"Gilbert rambled, clinging to the hospital beds metal railing. Mathew offered him sort of a half-smile, his purple eyes showing sympathy.

"I'm fine. It'll be ok." He coughed. The heart monitor along the wall fluttered for a bit before returning to its normal rate.

Gilbert's own heart was doing summersaults of its own in his chest, his eyes glued to the beeping machine. He was supposed to protect Mathew; to keep him safe. But put against something like this, Gilbert was helpless. He _hated_ it.

Cancer. That's what the Doctors had said. It started with a tumor in his stomach, and had spread through his blood and had ended up at his heart. They had removed the tumor, but by then it had been too late. Mathew had been given a month to live.

Now, three weeks in, the Medical staff wanted to try something new. A mechanical heart had been invented, made entirely out of organic materials. It had worked on rats, and even a few dogs. Now they wanted to try it on a human.

Gilbert had refused when he first heard the idea. He would donate his heart if he had to. Mathew deserved better than to be treated as another number in a science experiment.

However, one of the nurses had let the news slip to Mathew. He immediately jumped on the idea. Today was the day of the operation.

Gilbert reached out, brushing a few strands of hair behind the blonde's ear. Mathew sighed, his eyes focused on the vase of flowers at the foot of the bed.

Numerous news crews and journalists had shown up, reporting on the situation. They had pestered him several times now, wondering how Mathew was, or what was his relation was to him. Instead of answering, Gilbert had irritably just flipped them off.

The staff now had a 24 hour guard in front of the door, preventing any unwanted visitors.

Gilbert laced their fingers together, and he noticed how frail Mathew's had become. The bones sharply peaked under the skin, making him grit his teeth.

Looking up, he saw the clock read 4:27. The doctors were due any minute.

"Mathew."

"Hmm?"

Gilbert tightened his grip on the others fingers. He was probably crushing them, but Mathew didn't object.

"I um..I.." He cursed himself for stuttering. Instead, he pressed his lips firmly to Mathew's, knowing the other would get the message. Mathew smiled into the kiss and reached out, trying to pull him closer. Gilbert happily obliged, slipping over the metal railing and adjusting himself to straddle the blonde.

As Gilbert ran his fingers through Mathew's hair, someone at the door cleared their throat.

"Mr. Williams."

They hastily broke apart, Mathew blushing a deep crimson. Four or five Doctors stood in the doorway, exchanging quiet whispers and stealing glances at them. Gilbert slipped off the bed, rolling his eyes at the men_. _

The man who had spoken stepped forward, telling the others to prep for surgery. He extended his hand. "You must be Gilbert Beilschmidt." His smiled looked forced.

He ignored the offered hand, and it dropped to the Doctor's side. "What of it?"

"We've ,um… Well… Let's just say the staff has told me a lot about you." Mathew shot him strange look.

Gilbert smirked. When he had first found out Mathew's diagnosis, he had gone on a rampage, punching the walls and screaming in German. After he had shattered a window with his boot, he was held down and sedated.

Looking down now, Gilbert could see faint traces of where the glass had pierced his pale skin. He hadn't told Mathew about his outburst. He just explained that he had ran back to the house to grab some stuff and he cut himself there by accident. Mathew had seemed hesitant to accept his explanation. Nevertheless, he never questioned about it again.

"Dr. Renell, patient 4893 is ready." The Doctor looked past him, addressing the Nurse who had spoken.

"Good. Get him ready to move out."

Gilbert spun around on his heel, glaring at the young woman behind him. "His _name_ is Mathew." He growled.

Her eyes widened as she took a step back. "O-of course."

Gilbert felt a hand on his shoulder. He glanced back to see Dr. Renell staring at him.

"Maybe you should wait outside in the waiting room?" He went to shrug the hand off, but the man's grip tightened. Gilbert's hand curled into a fist.

"Gilbert."

His boyfriend's voice was heavily laced with his French accent, meaning his was about to switch to his native tongue. The staff noted the change of voice, but said nothing about it.

The pair had taken to learning each other's first language a long time ago, making understanding each other a lot easier. Mathew knotted the sheets between his fingers before speaking again.

" Allez, je vous verrai quand j'en aurai fini."

One of the nurses by the bed leaned over and whispered something into a Doctor's ear. He smiled before telling the next person. Gilbert felt like their privacy had been invaded at the translation. He switched to German.

" Versprochen?"

"Ja."

He turned to leave, but stopped himself. His red eyes met Mathew's purple ones, and the words flowed from his mouth before he could stop them. "Ich liebe dich, Birdie."

Mathew said nothing, and just nodded. Gilbert could see tears prick the corner of the blonde's eyes. He turned and walked out of the room, not wanting him to see his own tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

**This AU will probably be continued in future chapters. As to when, I have no Clue. Anyway, this Chapter was rewritten 5 times, each one being totally different from each other. I'm just glad I finally finished it. Expect chapter 4 in a week or two ^.^**


	4. Chapter 4 Rivalry

**Word Count: 735**

**Listening To: Sweater Weather- The Neighborhood **

Mathew felt like it was a competition. A swirling, horrid, never ending game played between him and his boyfriend's addiction.

He had grown used to it by now; waiting on the couch until some ungodly hour of the morning, clutching the phone between shaking hands. Then the front door would be thrown open, revealing Gilbert in his drunken state.

Mathew would then help him to the bedroom, demanding to know why he hadn't kept his promise from the day before.

Now, he sat huddled up on the sofa, a blanket wrapped tightly around his slender frame. The TV was turned on to some old late night game show, but Mathew couldn't bring himself to care. He checked the time on his phone, glaring at the white numbers on the top. 2:47

He wanted to scream, punch something, claim how it all wasn't fair. How the boy he had fallen in love with a century ago was not the same man today.

Mathew sniffed, pulling the blanket closer around him. Using the corner, he wiped under his eyes. He cursed himself when he pulled the fabric away and found it slightly damp. Gilbert wasn't worth his tears.

Around three, light filled the front window. It got closer, and he saw the outline of a truck coming up the driveway. Even from hear, Mathew could hear the beat of some song being blasted inside it.

A few shouts were exchanged in a foreign language, before the vehicle peeled away, leaving the house in darkness once more.

The front door clicked open. Mathew shrank under the blanket, waiting to see what kind of mess Gilbert had made of himself this time.

Heavy footsteps sounded through the house as Gilbert's boots pounded on the wooden floor. He rounded the corner slowly, using the edge of the wall to steady himself before flopping down in the chair opposite of Mathew.

"Hej." The albino slurred, his heavy German accent making his English harder to understand.

"You were supposed to be back by eleven."

Gilbert shrugged before responding. "Got distracted I guess."

Mathew resisted the urge to lash out against his boyfriend, his fingernails digging into his palm. He wanted to ask how some God damn club whose name blurred with the faceless occupants, was more important than him; than the constant in his life. More important than the person who loved him.

Mathew untangled himself from the warm blanket, flustered. He was sick of staying up worrying about Gilbert every night. His fingers dug deeper into his palm. "I'm tired of this, Gil. I think we should take a break. You need to get this… this _habit_ of yours under control."

Gilbert just stared, his mouth forming a small _o._

"I want you out of here by tomorrow night. I'm going to my brother's for the night." Mathew practically choked on the words. He refused to back down though, and he quickly scrambled to his room to pack a few things.

On a whim, Mathew grabbed the few hundred dollars he kept hidden in the corner of his dresser. He hated himself for it, but he didn't want to take chances.

Mathew paused when an old picture caught his eye. It was a few years old, and was set in a time before Gilbert had started this whole insane game.

He had taken Gilbert ice skating for the first time in his life. Mathew's arm was slung around Gilbert shoulder, preventing the other from falling on the ice. Gilbert had been pouting at having to be helped and Mathew was just laughing at his boyfriend's expression. He tore his eyes away, forcing himself back to reality.

Mathew swung the small duffel bag around his shoulders, shuffling out of his room.

He walked wordlessly in front of Gilbert, refusing to look at the albino. Mathew walked curtly down the short hallway before opening the front door and stepping outside into the snow. Mathew resisted the urge to slam the door, closing it behind him with a final _click_ instead.

**AN: This was so painful to write. I have little personal experience on how someone acts when they're drunk, so I went with what I read off of various websites. I hoped it went ok. Oh, and I apologize for all the angst lately. The next chapter should be really fluffy and sweet :D **


	5. Chapter 5 Unbreakable

**Word Count:**

**Listening To: King for a Day- Pierce the Veil **

**This chapter is dedicated to spiritualnekohime4 . **

An ancient Asian legend tells of an invisible red string, tied around the right pinkies of two lovers destined to meet. The string is the strongest of its kind and it may stretch or tangle, but it will never break.

Prussia had scoffed when he first heard the tale. Surely no one would have been so stupid to believe in fate and love. Now, upon hearing it a second time, he was beginning to doubt his previous assumption.

A few years ago, a certain person had caught his eye during a world meeting. He had been sitting in the corner of the room, clutching a small bear to his chest with his brown hair falling in his eyes.

Prussia had learned he was Mathew Williams, the physical representation of Canada.

After a stuttering introduction, and a few awkward dates, Prussia had asked Mathew if he wanted to try and give a relationship a go. Mathew, to Prussia's relief, had said yes.

Now, they sat in the front of Prussia's truck, on their way to America's for the fourth of July. The brash nation had invited them, along with several others for the celebration. Even England was supposed to attend. He claimed he would be fine with the party as long as he was invited and got to bring some homemade scones.

Prussia's fingers drummed nervously along the steering wheel, as he fiddled with the small velvet box in the front pocket of his jeans. _He'll say yes. He has to. _He reassured himself, trying to breathe normally.

Glancing sideways, he saw Canada calmly flipping through his phone, oblivious to his internal battle. Kumajiro sat in his lap, snoring softly.

Prussia returned his gaze to the strip of highway in front of them. It was starting to get dark, but the street lights hadn't flipped on yet. The last thing he needed was to crash into the semi in front of them. He gripped the steering wheel between his hands, trying to focus.

"Eh, Gil? Are you ok?"

Prussia tilted his head, and tried for a reassuring smile. "Ja, I'm fine."

Canada threw him a skeptical glance, but thankfully didn't press on the matter.

The rest of the car ride passed uneventfully. Twenty minutes later, they were pulling into America's driveway. Cars varying from old pickups to exotic sports cars were parked up and down the cement, along with some lined up on the curb. Strobe lights flicked spots of color around, and heavy dance music poured from outdoor speakers.

Prussia parked the truck near the end of the drive and hoped out onto the grass. He watched as his boyfriend gently pried the sleeping bear off his lap and placed him on the seat as he climbed out.

As they made their way towards the house, Prussia noticed clear balloons were filled with red and blue glow sticks and scattered across the lawn. Most were lying around, but some nations tossed them around, trying to form a game of volleyball.

He recognized several of the Nordics along with Spain, who was currently throwing one of the balloons at Romano. France was leaning on a tree next to him**. **France saw him, and he tilted his head as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder, motioning to Antonio. Prussia nodded and he turned to Canada.

"Hey Birdie? Would you mind getting us something to eat? I'm gonna talk to Spain and France really quick." Not waiting for a response, he pecked Canada on the lips before racing off towards his two friends.

Francis smirked as he came to a stop in front of him. Spain trotted up beside them, Romano's hand intertwined in his. " So you really are going to go through with this then?"

Prussia snorted. "I hope so. I mean, I already bought the ring and everything."

Francis laughed before responding. " Oui, little Mathew's face will be priceless. It will definitely be a night to remember."

He dug the toe of his boot into the dirt. "I guess I'm just worried about what he'll say." He mumbled.

"Mon Dieu, Gilbert. Are you blind? Haven't you seen the way he looks at you?"

"It's obvious he's in love with you." Spain chimed in. The light from his glow stick necklace made his eyes glow a startling green against the dark. Romano rolled his eyes.

"_God_. You bastards are pathetic with all this romance. You sound like a bunch of school girls."

"I don't think that's what you were say saying when I asked _you_, Lovi." Spain responded, not missing a beat. The Italian blushed as he looked at his shoes.

"Shut up."

The music was abruptly cut off, and America's voice filled the speakers. "Is this thing on? Yea? Ok! So we're gonna start the fireworks just as soon as we can set them up!" There was a click and the loud music started up again.

France turned towards him. " I do believe that's you cue, Gilbert."

"Bueno suerte!" Was all Spain said before dragging Romano off to the backyard.

Prussia set off on the cement path, trying to get his hands to stop shaking. He shoved them in his front pockets, but he cursed when his fingers brushed against the small box.

He spotted Canada sitting on one of the chairs by the pool. The blonde nation held a sparkler in his hand, drawing lazy shapes and symbols into the empty air.

Most of the nations had disappeared inside the house for drinks before the fireworks, so it was relatively quiet. Sweden and Finland were here, but they were on the opposite side of the pool, sharing a lawn chair.

Looking up as he finished the edge of a square, Canada smiled when he saw Prussia standing beside him. "Want one?" he asked, holding out an unlit sparkler. With Mathew's brown hair framing his face, and purple eyes staring up at him, Prussia doubted he could maintain his composure for much longer.

"Oh, um. Sure."

Prussia plopped down in the chair beside him as Canada handed him the sparkler. He tore off the end of the paper, watching the first few sparks catch and grow to full height.

A comfortable silence settled over them. After a few minutes, their sparklers died out and they tossed them on an empty lawn chair. Canada was the first to speak.

"This is nice."

Prussia opened his mouth to reply, but it was cut off by a loud _bang_ and an explosion of color in the sky.

Nations suddenly crowded out the door, stumbling over each other so they would get the best spots to see on the hill. Prussia had no intention to move, and he highly doubted he could if he wanted to. His leg bounced up and down anxiously, and he kept fidgeting in the chair.

Brilliant greens and blues and reds filled the sky as more fireworks were ignited. People were chattering happily on the hillside, trying to point out their favorites to their friends.

Prussia looked down, the little box in his pocket feeling as if it was made of lead. He clenched his fists, steeling his nerves.

Canada was still looking up at the sky, and Prussia forced himself to speak. "M-Mathew?" He looked down, startled at the use of his human name.

Prussia ran a hand through his hair. " I know we've been together for a while and it's been an awesome adventure. I just really love you and…" He dug out the small box, opening it so Canada could see the white gold band inside.

Canada's eyes went wide and he brought a hand to his mouth. Prussia's mouth felt like sandpaper, but he continued on. He dropped to one knee, looking up at his boyfriend.

"Will you marry me, Ma-" He was cut off as he was pulled into lip crushing kiss. Prussia was a bit surprised at his conservative boyfriend's actions, but he wasn't going to object.

He pulled away enough to murmur" I'll take that as a yes?" Canada sat back, nodding. Prussia just smirked.

"Awesome."

**The other Chapter included in this AU is Chapter one. I kinda have a love/the relationship with this chapter. Hope everything turned out okay. **


	6. Chapter 6 Obsession

**Word Count: 977**

**Listening to: Lord of the Rings Soundtrack. **

Mathew pulled back on the bow, his gaze focused on the target several yards away. Not daring to breathe, he aimed the silver tip at the center and…

"Hey! Mathew!"

Mathew jumped and the arrow flew from the bow, landing into a tree ahead of him. He turned, wanting to say something to the loud intruder, but the words died in his throat when he saw who it was.

"Eh, Gilbert? What are you doing here?"

Mathew had always had mixed feelings for the albino. They were friends since middle school, and now they were in their third year of high school. He had always found Gilbert to be quite attractive, and he loved how Gilbert had a soft spot for the things he loved. Mathew had always tried to ignore it, telling himself Gilbert saw him as just a friend and nothing more.

Gilbert shrugged, standing on top of a boulder. "You didn't pick up your phone when I called to see if you wanted to hang out, so I figured you would be practicing here." He motioned to the small clearing they were currently standing in. After Mathew had discovered it walking through the woods one day, it quickly became his favorite spot to practice for upcoming tournaments. Gilbert was the only other person he had showed his little hideout to.

Mathew sighed. "You know I have to practice. Regionals start next week."

Gilbert picked his way over the rocks and jogged up to him. He snorted when he saw the target. Not a single arrow was out of place, as they all littered the bull's-eye. " I hardly think you need practice." Mathew just shrugged off the praise, even though his heart was doing summersaults in his chest, and he picked up another arrow. He notched it, aiming for the target again.

After several seconds, he let the arrow fly. Mathew watched as it buried itself on the line between red and yellow.

"Damn." Gilbert whistled. His red eyes flicked to Mathew. "How long have you been here?"

Mathew withdrew another arrow from the quiver on his back. "Since nine."

Gilbert choked. "That's seven hours."

Mathew looked up from his bow, surprised. "Really? It's that late?" Gilbert nodded, showing him the time on his phone.

Mathew dangled the bow by his fingertips, suddenly aware how exhausted his arms felt. "Eh, I guess I could stop for today." Gilbert smiled.

"Good. Cause you look like shit."

The blonde snapped his head up at the insult. Gilbert just raised his hands in defense as he laughed. "Kidding, kidding." Mathew just rolled his eyes, and quickly collected his arrows from where they were buried into the fabric. He tossed them in the quiver and jogged back to retrieve his bow. Gilbert was staring at him.

"What?" Mathew asked, looking down at his shirt self-consciously. Gilbert blinked and shook his head. A light red dusted over his cheeks, and he cleared his throat.

"Um, nothing. Hey, do you wanna get something to eat? I'm guessing you didn't eat lunch."

Mathew shrugged as he placed bow into its case. "I ate some trail mix earlier."

"That's it?"

"I drank some water with it." He responded.

Gilbert turned and started on the path towards the parking lot. "Okay, I'm definitely getting you something to eat." He called over his shoulder.

20 minutes later they sat at a small pizza shack overlooking the lake. People gathered in the small shop on the Marina, and Sailboats dotted the water. Mathew thought they looked like tiny clouds. A large pepperoni pizza sat between them, and it was more than halfway gone.

Gilbert looked up from the enormous slice that lay on his plate. "So when do Regionals start officially?" he asked.

Mathew didn't tear his gaze from the water but answered immediately. "Monday morning , and they go all the way until Friday."

Gilbert nodded, chewing on a piece of pepperoni thoughtfully. "So I'm guessing you're going to be busy all weekend then." He said.

The blonde looked down at his own plate, feeling guilty. He didn't remember the last time he and Gilbert had hung out since Summer started. Practicing archery just had always seemed to get in the way.

"Whatever." Gilbert sighed. "I can't imagine how much stress you must be under anyway."

Seeing his friend look so dejected like that made him want to shrink and disappear into the back of the seat.

They sat in silence for a while, and slowly an idea started form in the back of his mind.

"Why don't you come to practice with me tomorrow? Maybe I could teach you how to shoot." Mathew asked.

Gilbert looked up from his drink. "Seriously? I've never even held a bow before. "He flicked a piece of his straw paper at him. "And I would have to wake up early." He added.

"I'm there by nine and it takes twenty minutes to drive from your house." Mathew responded.

"You're asking me to wake up before ten thirty." He smirked. "I don't know, sounds like a big commitment."

Mathew just rolled his eyes at Gilbert's sarcasm. "Fine, don't come."

"I'll be there, but on one condition."

The albino's response surprised Mathew, but he decided to just go with it. "And that is…?"

Gilbert smirked. " A large Double Chocolate Chip Frappuccino from Starbucks."

"Deal."

**AN: Due to how late this update was, the next chapter will be posted by the end of next week. Since the next theme fits so perfectly, it will be a continuation of my Hospital AU, which started in chapter 3. Oh and to the request I received: Expect it in around Chapter 9. Thanks again to those who have reviewed, favorited, and put this story on your alerts list. It means a lot. **


	7. Chapter 7 Eternity

**Word Count : 853**

**Listening To: NIghtcore- Flute **

Gilbert nervously bounced his leg up and down while he sat in the waiting room. He glanced at the clock.

11:35

Mathew had been in surgery for seven hours. He had been informed the operation would take more than twelve, but he refused to leave, getting up only to go to the bathroom or get something from the café across the hall. If anything went wrong, he wanted to be the first to know.

The doctors had assured him that everything would go smoothly, and if something did happen, they had the best specialists on hand.

Gilbert wanted to laugh at their recycled words. _ Like _hell_ they knew what they were doing._

Even though he and Mathew had been presented with stats and meaningless numbers that put the odds in their favor, he simply couldn't fight the nausea that clung to his stomach.

Gilbert turned to his right at the sound of snoring. Mathew's brother, Alfred had fallen asleep splayed across the chair. He had come the minute he heard of the operation. Since he was involved with the FBI, he had cleared the place of reporters and news crews by waving his badge and yelling something about them violating a law.

His friend, Francis, had stopped by earlier, wish Gilbert the best of luck, and telling him to text him the results when Mathew was in Recovery.

Gilbert tapped his fingers on his thigh, looking around the waiting room.

There was a guy around his twenties sitting across the aisle and a few chairs down. He had wavy chestnut hair and wore a simple white shirt and beige pants. A Japanese man wearing a dark green kimono was sleeping on his shoulder. With the way he looked at the other man with such kindness and love, Gilbert couldn't help but wonder if they were a couple.

A few nurses and Doctors with bleary eyes shuffled about through the halls, carrying clipboards and trays with medicine in paper cups.

Gilbert's eyes flicked to the clock again.

11:42

He cursed colorfully and watched as the second hand moved lazily across the numbers. The clock seemed to be mocking him, the time moving slower than usual. He shook his head. He needed another cup of coffee.

Gilbert stood, stretching out his arms. He walked to the machine and quickly made himself another cup, dumping several spoonfulls of sugar into it.

Despite himself, he yawned and felt his eyelids grow heavy when he returned to his seat. He took a swig of coffee. Gilbert stretched out, preparing to play his hundredth round of Angry birds that night.

The hours ticked away, only leaving him exhausted and to grow more anxious. He hadn't heard anything about Mathew's surgery from the staff since it started. His phone had died earlier, leaving him to stare up through the floor to ceiling window, and watch cars headlights cut through the dark street.

Gilbert closed his eyes, promising to open them again in a few minutes.

…

Someone was shaking him. "Mr. Beilschmidt, wake up."

Gilbert eyes flew open, and he saw a Doctor standing in front of him. He shook the man's hand off of his shoulder as he stood up.

_Damn it_. He thought. _When did I fall asleep? _

Gilbert looked up irritably at the Doctor, who he recognized as Doctor Renell. "What?"

He cleared his throat before speaking. "Um, Mathew is out of surgery and I was wondering if you wa-"

Gilbert cut him off mid-sentence. "Where is he?"

Doctor Renell looked down at his file. "Room 167, down the left hall."

He all but tripped over his feet and he ran towards the room not caring about the cries of protest from the people he bumped into. All he could think about was Matthew.

Gilbert came to a stop before Mathew's room, his heart pounding. A news crew had set up beside the room, and the staff was doing their best to keep them from entering. They looked up when he passed and waved him through, recognizing him as one of the approved visitors.

He practically threw open the door, quickly stepping inside and shutting it behind him. Mathew lay in the center of the bed, sleeping. A balloon shaped like Captain America's shield was floating above the foot of the mattress, tied on by a long red string. Gilbert rolled his eyes.

Pulling up a chair, he sat down by the edge of the bed. Mathew looked so peaceful, his hair flowing loosely around his head, and there was no sign of stress or worry etched into his features. Several bandages were wrapped around his chest, rising and falling in time with his breathing.

Gilbert interlaced Mathew's frail fingers with his pale ones.

"Hey Birdie."

**AN: I actually had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I love Giripan and I wanted to include them in one of my fics so I apologize if it seems a bit random. This is the end of the Hospital AU, but there might be something similar to it in the future. **


	8. Chapter 8 Gateway

Listening to: Nightcore- I Can Walk on Water, I Can Fly

Word Count: 639

Gilbert sat on top of the gate, his large wings fluttering behind his back. His boss had sent him to collect someone's soul from this graveyard, but the person had yet to show. He spun the handle of his scythe impatiently between his fingers.

A break in the clouds let some of the moon's light through, illuminating the gravestones. Most had been placed there recently, but some dated back several years, the earliest ones displaying the early 19th century. Flowers in varying states of decay were place at the foot of each stone.

The sound of footsteps caught his attention, and Gilbert caught the scythe in his hand. One quick swipe and the contract would be complete.

Instead of another faceless mortal, a young man stepped out of the shadows, his white wings displayed proudly on his back. Unlike his feathers, which were harsh and pointed, the strangers were soft and neatly kept. A simple white tunic was draped around his body and gold thread was woven into his hair. His feet were bare.

He was an angel.

His eyes widened and he took a step back when he saw Gilbert. He quickly reached into one of the folds in his tunic and pulled out a small white gold dagger.

"W-What are you doing here?"

Gilbert yawned and lazily jumped down from his perch, landing on the dirt with a dull _thud. _He gestured to the graveyard beyond the gate with the blade of his scythe.

"Waiting for my contract to arrive."

The angels gaze flicked nervously to Gilbert's blade and then back to his knife. The demon smirked.

"You're n-not supposed to be here, I was a-assigned this location f-for tonight." He responded.

"Well those pretty little wings of yours must have taken a wrong turn." Gilbert teased.

The angels face turned a deep shade of crimson. "That's impossible." He pointed to the cement plague in the brick fence with his dagger. "42nd Street Cemetery. That's what my boss said."

Gilbert shrugged. "Your boss sent you to the wrong location then."

The angel shook his head. "No, he wouldn't do that. "

"Maybe he just wanted to get rid of you, thought you weren't worth his time anymore."

The angel set his jaw and responded with clenched teeth. "_No." _

Gilbert noticed the change in the others face immediately. He decided to see just how far he could push it. "Are you sure?" he asked." It would seem quite a coincidence, an angel by himself sent to a location where a demon was already assigned."

His eyes flared. "There's no such thing as coincidence, everything is planned out from the moment we're born."

Before Gilbert opened his mouth to reply, the sound of footsteps on stone stopped him. Looking through the gate, he saw the figure of an old man walking towards them. He glanced back at the angel to see him stretching out his wings, about to take flight. The dagger had disappeared back into his tunic.

Gilbert stepped side, smirking. He made a large sweeping gesture with his arm towards the gate.

"After you."

**AN: To answer questions from the previous chapter: **

**Spiritualnekohime4: Yes the operation was successful ^^**

**HandMTomatos: Oh, I never noticed that, but that's really cool how you noticed it :D And I get the chapter names from the 100 Theme Challenge on Deviantart**

**This Chapter symbolizes the literal gate of the graveyard and the gateway to Gilbert and Mathew's eventual relationship . I apologize on the quality of this Chapter. I've been feeling down lately and it's definitely reflected on my writing. The next Chapter will be done on the request I received, and has already been pre-written to an extent. Expect it to be published sometime next week. **


	9. Chapter 9 Death

**Listening to: Ellie Goulding- Hanging On (Without Rap)**

**Word Count: 1,042**

_**Warning: Character Death **_

Mathew sat in the front of the truck, laughing at some stupid joke Alfred had just told. Gilbert, sitting in the driver's seat, just rolled his eyes. They had only been driving for twenty minutes, but the American was already starting to irate Gilbert.

He had been fine with Francis, since they were good friends, it was Arthur and Alfred he had been reluctant on inviting. Mathew, after a few choice words and chaste kisses, had finally convinced his boyfriend to let him invite his whole over to see their new house.

They had bought their first house together; tucked away in the countryside, and far away from the big city and other distractions. Now Mathew wanted to show it off to as many people as people.

"Mathew you really weren't joking when you said you moved to the country." Arthur said.

Glancing out the window, he saw the large mountains in the distance, cutting jagged lines across the sky. Trees surrounded the gravel road on either side. Mathew shook his head.

"Yea, there's, like, _nothing_ out here. How can you stand it?" Alfred replied.

Gilbert shrugged, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "It's nice. It reminds me of Germany." Mathew felt the car speed up.

He took Gilbert's left hand in his own, trying to calm him down. He looked back at him, and Mathew smiled, squeezing the others hand reassuringly.

Francis clucked his tongue. "Leave them be, Alfred. I'm sure they would say the same thing about you and Kiku living together in the city."

Mathew looked back just in time to see his older brother's face turn pink and he dropped his gaze to the floor. "That's different…"

The car was silent for most of the ride after that, and only had been interrupted when Arthur and Francis had started making small talk. Alfred had fallen asleep.

Mathew heard Gilbert curse and raindrops splatted the windshield. He flicked on the windshield wipers.

"Hey," He began interlacing their fingers again.

"Yea?"

"Thank you. For doing this. It means a lot."

Gilbert planted a quick kiss on top of Mathew's forehead. "No problem Birdie."

Francis gasped from the back seat. "Gilbert watch out!"

A tree had fallen around a curve, blocking the road.

Gilbert slammed on the brakes, and the tires screamed from under them, trying to get a grip on the damp cement. Mathew screwed his eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

He felt the truck jerk to the left wildly before hearing glass shatter. Something tightened around his waist and there was a sick crunch of metal. Mathew felt his head snap forward and everything went black.

Someone was shouting.

Mathew blinked his eyes open to try and see, but everything was fuzzy. He lifted a hand to his face. His glasses were missing.

When he pulled his fingers away they came back sticky and red.

He felt someone grabbing at him, pulling him out of his seat. He tried to scream when blinding pain coursed through his arm, but his throat felt like sandpaper and no sound came out.

Instead, he let himself be yanked through the window, the sharp edges of the glass cutting into his side roughly.

"Where's Gil-" he tried to speak again but his voice was barely above a whisper. The rain had started to fall harder, soaking through his clothes and left him shivering.

"Shhh , Mathew. You're fine. Just lay there for a bit, we'll see if we can't find your glasses."

"Arthur… " Francis started uncertainly.

"No, not yet. Let him see for himself. Call an ambulance for now."

Arthur returned a bit later and knelt in front of him, blocking his view.

"Found them." He said, sliding them up to Mathew's eyes.

They were cracked and broken, but he could still see out of them. He blinked as everything came into view.

Their truck had slammed into a tree, completely demolishing it. Mathew heart beat faster when he saw who lay splayed across the front, unmoving.

"Gilbert." He breathed. He stopped breathing, not daring to believe the scene played out before him.

Mathew stood up, but the ground beneath him started to tilt. He tried to ignore it, and he forced his legs to take the two steps to the truck.

Gilbert's body lay across the hood, his body scattered with cuts and glass. There was a nasty gash across his forehead, leading down to his temple. His normally perfect snow white hair was now disheveled and matted with blood. Mathew extended a shaky hand, brushing it back from Gilbert's face.

Mathew had to clutch onto the hood to prevent himself from collapsing. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Mathew, it wa-" Alfred started.

"Stop."

"But-"

"Leave me alone, Alfred! This is your fault! You're the one who made him mad so he wasn't paying attention! He's _dead _because of you!"

Alfred raised his hands, shock flicking through his eyes at Mathew's sudden anger.

The world began to tilt again, and Mathew sank to his knees. He closed his eyes as sobs racked his body, leaving him weak and exhausted.

Mathew heard sirens approaching, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Instead he hugged his knees to his chest and tried to ignore the hushed whispers being exchanged by the rest of his family.

He buried his face in his hands, wanting nothing more than for this all to be a bad dream; to wake up in their bed curled up next to Gilbert.

Gilbert, the one that made him pancakes at two in the morning on his birthday, and loved his dear pet bird. Gilbert, the one Mathew had fallen in love with, now sprawled lifeless in the rain.

**Shiary: I'm so sorry if I didn't get the request exactly right. I tried to make it as close as possible while fitting in the original theme, but if you have any complaints please just let me know so I can try and fix it. **

**For the rest, I hope you don't mind the AmeriPan. I, personally, ship USUK, but since this was supposed to be the FACE family, I went with another popular America ship.**


	10. Chapter 10 Opportunities

**Listening to: Trick and Treat- Kaito, Gakupo, and Len **

**Word Count: **

Mathew sat at the small outdoor café, pushing his food around the plate with his fork. His father, Francis, had taken him to visit his hometown in France for the weekend. Even though he loved seeing the places he used to visit as a kid, he couldn't help but feel rather bored.

Francis glanced up from his glass of wine. His brow furrowed when he saw Mathew's expression.

"Do you not like it?" he asked, gesturing to the mille-feuille left neglected on his plate.

Mathew shook his head, tucking a stray piece of blonde hair behind his ear. "Eh, no it's not that."

Francis took a sip of wine before replying. "Something else is bothering you then."

"It's just," he began "I feel so out of place here. I don't really remember much from when I was a kid I guess."

Suddenly, there was a shout from across the street of the café. A man with paper white skin was stumbling across the road, narrowly dodging cars. He was about halfway through when a truck sped towards him and he stopped to stare at it, frozen in place.

Without putting much thought into the matter, Mathew sprinted across the road, shoving the stranger to the sidewalk. They landed in a crumpled heap just as the truck flew past, not even bothering to slow down.

Mathew turned to the albino, and he saw the whites of his eyes were red. He was drunk.

"Are you gonna move, or would you like to cuddle for a while longer?"

Mathew looked down to find their legs were tangled together, and his hands were wrapped around the others torso. He felt his cheeks heat up as he quickly untangled himself. The stranger just laughed.

Mathew shook his head, pushing his glasses up. "Are you ok?"

"I would have been fine if you hadn't decided to play hero."

"You would have died." He replied.

"You don't know that." The stranger replied, getting to his feet shakily.

"That truck would've ran you over, you stopped in the middle of the road!"

Francis' voice suddenly sounded from behind him. "Gilbert?"

The stranger glanced up, and smirked. "Hej Francis! How's it going?"

"You're drunk."

"Tipsy." He corrected. "Besides, when was the last time I was actually sober?"

Francis sighed, running a hand through his hair. He turned to Mathew. " Mathew, this is Gilbert. He's an old, um, _acquaintance_ of mine. Gilbert, this is my son Mathew."

"My knight in shining armor." He replied, winking at Mathew suggestively.

Mathew blushed again, and a small smile played on his lips as he looked down at the cement.

Gilbert fished his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. "Well, I would love to stay and chat, but my boss expects me back in ten minutes."

Francis rolled his eyes. "You're just going to go to another bar Gilbert."

Gilbert shrugged. "So? It's not even five yet." He shoved a finger towards Mathew. "I will _definitely_ be seeing you again though."

With a final smirk he disappeared around the corner of a building, leaving Mathew utterly speechless.

**Apologies for the length of this chapter. And wow, I have so many of my headcannons on past relationships in this chapter, it's not even funny. I felt bad for writing a death scene, so I hope this lightened the mood a bit. Also, I may or may not write their super awkward first date together, but I'm not sure yet.**

**Shiary: I hoped this fixed your request. I know you wanted Canada saving someone from the FACE family, but I sincerely have no idea how to incooperate that into a PruCan fic. I hope Canada saving Prussia will work. **


	11. Chapter 11 33

**Listening to: EuroVision 2013 Soundtrack **

**Word Count: 825**

Gilbert lay sprawled across the couch, intently focused on the TV screen before him. He had spent all day trying to defeat this damn boss, and wasn't going to give up until he won.

Just as his character was about to call Odin, the Aster Protoflorian sent her flying to her death.

"Scheiße!" He yelled, throwing the controller at the TV which now displayed the _GAME OVER_ screen. The batteries fell out as it collided with the screen, and then fell dejectedly to the floor. Gilbert glared at it.

Gilbert pulled himself off the couch and stretched, savoring the feeling. He shuffled over to where the controller now lay on the floor and threw it back onto the couch. He would fix it after he grabbed something to eat.

Gilbert's mind drifted to his boyfriend as he quickly grabbed a bag of pretzels and returned to the living room. Mathew was taking his last final for Chemistry for his senior year, and would have the whole summer off until he went to College.

Mathew had been anxious for the test, constantly studying and worrying whether he would pass or not. Gilbert had taken the class the year before, and had told him there was nothing to worry about.

Mathew had woke up early, untangling himself from Gilbert's arms. He had cast a sideways glance at him, and Mathew quickly explained he wanted to get to class early. Gilbert had pulled him down for a quick kiss before mumbling a short good bye.

Gilbert was just sitting back down when the front door opened. He heard Mathew drop his keys onto the table and shuffle into the living room.

"Hey Birdie, how'd it g-" He broke off when he saw Mathew. His glasses were crooked on his face and his hair was a mess. He was clutching a crumpled piece of paper and his eyes were red and puffy, like he had been crying.

Before he could say anything, Mathew collapsed onto Gilbert, tears streaming down his face. He buried his face into the crook of his neck, and Gilbert wrapped his arms around him, not quite sure what to do.

"Shh Birdie. It's ok."

Mathew shook his head. " No… No it's not. Everything's _ruined_." His fists clenched tighter around Gilbert's shirt. "I made a 33 on the final." He choked on the last words, his cries becoming harsh sobs.

Gilbert glanced at the paper that had been thrown onto the coffee table and ran his hands through Mathew's hair, trying his best to comfort him. "Can't you retake it?"

Mathew nodded. "I'll have t-to go to s-summer school for a few w-weeks though."

"See? It'll work out."

"It's just… I worked so hard. I was confident I k-knew everything."

Gilbert remained silent, choosing to brush a soft kiss on the top of Mathews head. He listened as his sobs grew softer, becoming a soft tremble instead.

Mathew gently untangled himself and curled onto the sofa on the cushion next to him. He wiped the eyes with the corner of his sleeve, drying his eyes. He sniffed and gave a small half smile when he saw Gilbert staring.

"I know, I probably look horrible right now."

Gilbert shook his head. "A little ragged maybe, but not horrible."

Mathew rolled his eyes. "You're impossible."

Gilbert smirked, not saying anything. He was glad Mathew wasn't stuttering anymore and was, somewhat, back to his old self.

"Tough boss?" Mathew asked, gesturing to the broken controller on the ground.

"Slightly."

He tilted his head slightly. "Let me try."

Gilbert gave him a sideways glance, but just grabbed the spare controller off the TV stand, handing it to Mathew. "You don't even play Xbox." He responded.

Mathew shrugged. "So? Might as well try."

Gilbert quickly connected it and explained what each button did before handing it over to Mathew. He pressed the start button, and the fight started from the beginning.

Ten minutes later, Gilbert was left staring astonished at the Victory screen, proudly displaying five stars. Mathew smirked beside him.

"That wasn't too bad." He stated simply.

"I spent five days on that boss," Gilbert started slowly, watching as it switched to the cut-scene. "And you beat it in less than ten minutes."

Mathew just shrugged, handing the controller to him. "Maybe you aren't as good a gamer as you think you are."

Gilbert punched him playfully on the arm, and Mathew laughed, the crumpled paper in front of them forgotten.

**AN: Anyone know what game Gilbert was playing in the beginning? I got stuck on that same boss for so long, I was almost in tears when I finally beat it. Anywho, school is starting up soon, so I don't know if Ill have much time to write, so the update schedule will be very random. I'll try to write as much as I can in class but no promises. **


End file.
